The Glorious Misadventures of LUVKIDS
by vetty123
Summary: When Biowulf goes to get coffee, you know (instinctively, like) that something's up. When Breach, Skalamander and Nightshadow tag along, you know it's going to be big. I mean, big, as in, CATACLYSMIC. Find out what happens when a group of Villains form…a talk group to discuss loyalty to the Head Villain. Really. Crack. AU. No pairings. Pack-centric. Did I mention it was crack?


**A/N**: This story is semi-dedicated to **Corona Frost**, who was the first person to recognize my predilection towards humorous stories. They totally inspired me to write this: which I'm grateful for, seeing how I was in a rather deep rut until this idea hit me in the face.

Just for the record: **Nightshadow** is the fan-given name to **Jungle Cat**. Jungle Cat, if you're too lazy to check the wiki (like I was), is that EVO that was sucked of his nanites by Van Kleiss, but managed to counter the whole "turning into stone" deal by concentration (watch "Grounded" for the whole story).

**Fake Disclaimer**: While I have frequently been accused of harboring multiple personalities within my prodigiously bloated head (_Huh? No we haven't! *Shhh! Pipe down in the back! We're talking to the readers!*_), I definitely do not have four lurking about (_Errr, he knows we're sitting right here, doesn't he? *Hush, Jimmy, he's still oblivious*_), therefore **I am not Man of Action.**

_**Real **_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Generator Rex, which belongs to Man of Action and Cartoon Network. I also do not own Disney's _Phineas and Ferb_, who gave me the story's title (just look up LOVEMUFFIN if you haven't heard of it). Moreover, certain elements of my story (there for the finding) were inspired by the following, none of which belong to me: _Friends, The Biscuit of Zazzamarandabo, The Ring, The Mysterious Benedict Society, Harry Potter_, and _Hamlet_. What can I say? I have my finger in a lot of pies. Now, enjoy the story!

* * *

**The Misadventures of LUVKIDS**

**Chapter 1: A Lot Can Happen Over Coffee…**

_A non-descript coffee shop,  
__Late afternoon_

The sun shone drearily down on the weary city. The manager took off for the day in his ultra-expensive car. The waitress hurried back and forth hastily, retrieving orders for everyone. The cook sang off-key Spanish folk songs in a vibrant baritone. A blue wolf started moving in the shadows.

The coffee diner was located in a bustling part of the city and saw plenty of business as a general rule. The bell on the door was usually ringing constantly as customers hurried in out of the biting wind to grab a quick cup of steaming coffee and a hot bite of pie. It was warm inside, and the creaky old jukebox played a litany of old love songs in the background.

None of them jukebox shenanigans today, though. This afternoon, the rickety old fan on the ceiling circulated stagnant air while the jukebox sang on to an empty room before sputtering to a disheartened stop. The sun shone starkly through the windows, highlighting the lazy motes of dust that floated through the abandoned café. There was not a single patron in sight, and the waitress was nervously biting her lip as she uneasily surveyed her lone customer, wondering what her manager would say when he found out about this fiasco.

It had been a normal day up until then – the atmosphere had been filled with the usual casual banter between the patrons as she served them their beverages, money was changing hands freely, and business was proceeding as usual. Nobody had had even the slightest inkling that anything was wrong.

In short, it was your average working day.

Then _he_ had shown up.

The…_person_…had casually walked in like your average wanderer, nudging the door ajar and sliding through the opening nimbly with practiced ease. He walked like many travelers the old rest stop had seen: just a tired man looking for a place to rest his weary bones while enjoying some flavorful delicacies.

The waitress had barely given him a cursory glance, thinking him to be merely another one of the many faces that passed by the restaurant regularly. Perhaps a bit larger than your average Joe, granted, but still just your regular working man. Then she was struck by an arresting realization that halted her thoughts in their tracks: _Your average Joe doesn't _clank _when he walks, does he?_

Her second, more careful look revealed that the 'average guy' was much more than that; and her shocked gasp had grabbed the attention of everyone else in the formerly energetic room: fixing their eyes upon the solitary figure sitting peacefully at the window table, looking out at the city introspectively.

The building had cleared out in record time: the customers gulped down boiling coffee and shoved pie down their throats before jumping to their feet and throwing some money at the waitress, shouting "keep the change!" while scurrying out; the cook had peeked outside the kitchen double doors and taken maternity leave; even the janitor had called in saying his cat was ill and needed urgent personal attention. Pretty soon, the establishment had been left to its fate completely, leaving only the nervous waitress counting the cash left behind…and the stranger sitting at the window.

Peering nervously out of the corner of her eye, the waitress continued pretending to wipe the counter with a rag as she covertly scrutinized the person sitting at Table 9. He looked to be buried in thought, as though he hadn't even noticed the furor caused by his unobtrusive entry into the café. Of course, with a physiology like that, his facial emotions were difficult to interpret and his body language was inscrutable. His form was unwavering as he surveyed all that lay outside the shop...and then he twitched.

The peeping caterer squeaked and dropped her prop of a rag. _That's it, I'm calling the authorities._

Making sure to seem unobtrusive, she quietly worked her way to the backroom. Once safely out of sight, she scrambled to find a phone, finally grabbing the landline. She hastily punched in a number that every good citizen was supposed to know by heart, and frowned impatiently while the connection was made, brightening considerably when it went through:

"Hello? Is this Providence base?" she asked, beaming as she received an answer to the affirmative.

"Great! Listen, this is Central Perk, off the freeway. We have something of a situation here with a stranger…" she broke off as she listened to the person on the other side.

"Yes, I know that you're not a police service, alright? I just thought that this kind of thing was right up your alley, so if you could send your best people over–" interrupted again, she listened with a steadily growing frown.

"No, listen: this is _exactly_ the kind of thing you guys are around for," she insisted, pausing once more before blowing up.

"Look here, you bozo, I am most certainly not insane, and am definitely not hysterical! And you can take your precious 'protocol' and–" cut short once more.

"What I'm trying to say – if you would stop interrupting me and actually let me finish a sentence – is that there's an EVO sitting in our restaurant, just looking out the window like an old man!" she declared in frustration, listened with satisfaction to the incredulous buzzing on the other end before concluding.

"That's right, you moron: there's a clunky blue wolf sitting at Table 9! Now, what are you going to do about it, wise guy?"

* * *

Biowulf was annoyed. The fluorescent lights irritated his sensors, the prices listed on the menu were brutally extortionate, and he'd been sitting at the table for around seven minutes now and had not once been asked for his order. _And this was supposed to be one of the fastest places in the city to grab a meal at_, he thought disdainfully. _Where's the waitress gone off to so suddenly? Come to think of it, where'd everyone else go? I'm certain this place was crowded when I found it._

He caught sight of the ditzy waitress (who was wearing a smug grin for some reason) emerging from somewhere in the back and waved her over. The girl, taken somewhat aback, approached the unknown factor tentatively. Only years of tedious experience kept her from running for the hills at his beckon, and she took a deep breath before asking in a wavering voice:

"Yes? C-Can I…help you?"

Speaking brusquely, Van Kleiss' lieutenant pointed to several items on the menu. "I'll have a venti half-caff vanilla hazelnut latte…hold the whipped cream. Oh, and one of those little chocolate covered graham crackers," he ordered in his burly timbre. Normally Biowulf preferred not to speak in such a rapid stream of words, but he was upset by the delay in service and was coming close to biting the girl's head off.

Metaphorically, you weirdos. That was a figure of speech.

Blinking in surprise, the waitress could only stare at him for a moment. Broken out of her reverie by a slight cough from the EVO, who was waiting impatiently, she started violently and began scribbling his order down – more out of habit than any conscious thought on her part.

"Let's see, that was…a chocolate graham cracker…venti half-caff vanilla hazelnut cappuccino…no whipped cream…" her subconscious mumblings were interrupted by Biowulf, who corrected irritatedly,

"No, no, no: it was a venti half-caff vanilla hazelnut _latte_, not cappuccino. Seriously, get it right, lady – you're supposed to be a professional. After all, I'm paying a good seventeen dollars for this measly order," he groused, turning back to his perusal of the scenery and dismissing the woman completely.

She stood there dazed for a moment longer, out of her depth with the alien concept of an intelligent EVO ordering…coffee (of all things). She shook herself from her musings before correcting the order and scuttling back behind the counter. Once there, she began to prepare the drink as quietly as she could, wondering how long she could last until Providence showed up. _This wolf's got attitude…_

Biowulf, on the other hand/claw/thingy, was rolling his eyes internally. _Humans…_they certainly weren't giving him any incentives to change his low opinion of their kind. Uselessly inefficient creatures…ah, here was his coffee.

Approaching cautiously, the waitress held the plate gingerly in front of her. Extending her arm as far away from her body as was possible, she lowered the dish onto the table slowly and backed away just as delicately, taking great care not to seem threatening in any way whatsoever.

Without looking, the blue wolf reached a clawed hand down to pick up the steaming mug of coffee and bring it to his mouth. He blew steam away from the drink's surface slowly as his mind roamed freely.

_Van Kleiss has been working more intensely than I've ever seen him before, and I'm exhausted. Abysus is harder to run than it looks, after all. Sure, it may seem like an ordinary abandoned castle from the outside, but the sheer management that the entire system requires is frankly exhausting. The walls are falling apart from sheer disuse, and the water seepage problem is frankly staggering. Who knew we had that many miles of plumbing?_

_I've been run off my feet ever since the Master's latest obsession with Breach, what with all the responsibilities that've been dumped on my head. He's been working on her for sixteen hours a day now; I've been basically running the empire on his behalf, and I'm dead beat._

He ran through the list of duties in his head as he mused._ Let's see…today I've been ordered to check the new consistency of the guard trees' root mucus (how delightful), to reorganize the watch patterns of the sentry EVOs and _– what was it again? _Ah, that's right, I need to post new guards around the laboratory in the basement after the last ones…disappeared._

It was a fairly sizeable amount of work: easily enough to keep the wolf-EVO busy throughout the day. And yet, he'd somehow found himself wandering along to this secluded coffee shop in an attempt to get some time for himself, as he felt the need for some serious thinking.

You see, as bizarre and out of character as it may sound, Biowulf was upset with his Master.

* * *

This was by no means a sudden development: indeed, the seeds of this dissent had been sown way back in the Bug Jar. When Van Kleiss had offered to take that wretched faceless EVO as his second-in-command, Biowulf had been livid. So livid, in fact, that he had temporarily disobeyed direct orders and had helped his master's fiercest adversary (along with a traitor to the Pack) escape the Bug Jar in order to ruin NoFace's chances of attaining general.

Biowulf's fist involuntarily clenched around the ceramic vessel in his hands as he thought back to that day. The absolute audacity of Kleiss was amazing – to actually _dare_ to offer a _complete_ and _total_ stranger the position of _general_, while _callously _passing over his loyal right-hand man who had served him faithfully through the years...unbelievable.

Biowulf always emphasized his thoughts in italics when he was angry, it helped let the tension out.

At first, the loyal lieutenant thought that he had vented enough by his one act of rebellion. He'd assumed, rather naively, that his little tantrum would get him over the hump and back into a properly subservient mood. He soon found, though, that his rankled feelings continued to fester in the memory of how casually he had been overlooked, leading slowly to something that felt uncomfortably like betrayal.

That was one of the main reasons he'd come to the human city today: he'd felt like he needed to "get away from it all" for a few hours, and a cup of joe had sounded delightfully appealing. A chance to forget about being lieutenant and to relax for once had just been too good to ignore, and soon Biowulf was off to grab some soothing coffee.

_Although_, he thought as he glanced disdainfully at the trembling waitress, _I seem to have forgotten to factor in how irritating humans are. Rotten pests with no sense of honor. All of them, even Mas–_

Jolting as though electrocuted, the loyal wolf immediately purged such rebellious thoughts from his mind, systematically eradicating the heinous concepts. Finishing that, he began to castigate himself roundly.

How could Master ever be compared to lowly humans! Humans were scum, the antithesis of everything that was Master's. After all, Van Kleiss was an honorable person…except when he wasn't…but even so–

Biowulf sighed and rubbed his face with his monstrous hands. This line of thinking was exactly the problem, and neatly encapsulated the reason why he'd needed to take a break from it all for some serious soul-searching.

_What I need is something that could help me suppress these seditious thoughts that keep floating around his head. Something that could help me cope with my own treasonous thoughts. But how would one go about such a thing?_

Several vague ideas floated about his head, each one crazier than the last – _talking to a stuffed pillow with a smiley-face, seeking professional therapy, meditating on a lonely Pacific island while beating up coconut trees, attaining Nirvana and ascending to a higher plane_…the possibilities were endless, but the small matter of a troublesome thing called ' reality' continued to put a damper on most of his plans. Besides, none of the solutions he'd concocted seemed to 'work' for him, even in his own head.

As he sat at the table, absent-mindedly sipping the scalding and bitter coffee, he failed to notice the door jangle open merrily, the cheerful sound out of place in the somber diner.

The door widened further, then swung shut as someone stepped into the conspicuously empty diner.

"I'm sorry, we're closed right now, so if you could just…" the waitress' feeble objection was quashed as soon as she got a good look at exactly who…or _what_…had just stepped through the door. Having done so, she _eeped_ inaudibly and ducked down behind the counter, unable to comprehend what she'd just seen.

Waving her hands daintily in the air, the slight figure who had brazenly intruded upon the silent scene picked her way through the disarrayed chairs carefully until she arrived at Biowulf's table. The blue wolf looked up and eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and undisguised trepidation.

Pulling a chair opposite the lieutenant, the girl seated herself demurely. She knitted a set of her fingers together intricately and rested her chin on them, fixing the EVO across the table with an innocuous stare.

"So, Biowulf," Breach said in her monotonous voice, with a small smile curling her lips. "What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

* * *

Biowulf was stunned by this newest occurrence, thrown out of his depth by this curveball life had tossed at him. _Forget what I'm doing here…what is _she_ doing here? I thought Van Kleiss was running those experiments on her, trying to…what did he say…ah, that's it: he's trying to "instigate the promulgation of a tachyon field from her regular plasmoid vortexes"…whatever _that_ means. _

His husky voice questioned her in return, asking, "I thought Master was testing your limits, wasn't he? What are you doing here now?" A dim idea of what was going on formed in his mind, but he wasn't entirely certain...

She blatantly ignored his question, trying to peek into his cup. "Is that coffee? Could I have some?"

He sputtered a bit, thrown by the shift in conversation, before regaining his balance. "No, of course not! Did you abandon your duties and come here without permission? Does Van Kleiss know that you're here?"

No answer, as Breach seemed captivated by the mug of coffee in Biowulf's hand. He cupped a protective hand over it, upset by her refusal to answer. "Well? Answer me!"

She pouted fearlessly in response to his questions, crossing one pair of arms over her chest petulantly while placing the other two, disproportionately large limbs, akimbo on her hips. Her innocent act was somewhat undercut by the crafty look she was casting at him through her bangs. "Give me some coffee, then I'll talk."

Grunting disbelievingly, Biowulf gesticulated impatiently at the cowering serving girl, keeping his eyes fixed on the EVO sitting across from him. "Excuse me, waitress! One more of my order, please – none of the chocolate graham crackers, though."

The girl barely managed to stutter out a reply through her chattering teeth, and set to work with trembling hands. Her jerky movements were halted, though, by a voice that called out a correction to her:

"Make that _four_ orders of what he has," Breach amended, smiling inscrutably at the girl.

The waitress may have nodded, or it may just have been her whole body shaking in fear of this mysterious Samara-like EVO sitting before her – Biowulf couldn't tell. Besides, he had more pressing issues to attend to than some airheaded female's predilection with horror films.

The waitress finally finished making the four new lattes (only breaking three cups in the process) and carried them all out, balancing them precariously in her arms. She slowly approached the seated duo, scrunching her brow as she tried not to drop anything; keeping her mind off of _who_ exactly she was taking the drinks to and focusing on keeping her balance.

Suddenly, she gasped as she found her hands suddenly…empty. Her arms, which had moments ago been carrying so much, were completely unencumbered by the dishes she'd been carrying moments before.

As she looked up in blank amazement, she caught a fleeting glimpse of four glowing crimson discs on the table fading from view, depositing the steaming mugs of coffee on the wooden surface; one for each of the EVO's hands.

The waitress made a hysterical noise through her nose (maintaining some of her composure, at least) and stumbled backwards clumsily, tripping over a three-legged stool in her haste (…never mind) while scrambling to get to the relative safety of the kitchen with absolutely no dignity left at all. She began wondering when Providence was supposed to show up, and dialed her boss telling him to come down as well – she needed all the help she could get.

She was still waiting to wake up, or for the daydream to end, or for a disembodied voice to begin talking about the Twilight Zone while eerie music played in the background. Unfortunately for our comic relie– *_hem hem_* – excuse me, our not-quite-heroine, she was truly deep within the Twilight Zone this time, lost without a trace. She moaned quietly as the true horror of her imagined perils struck her. _What did I do to deserve such a fate?_

Camera fade to black…

* * *

Heedless of the epic and moving human drama playing out before him, Biowulf began grilling his comrade for details. "Why aren't you helping our Master with his experiments?"

Breach paused in her examination of each individual cup of coffee she held and flinched slightly, turning to the side a bit. She gave no answer, though, and shortly resumed her taste testing as though nothing were wrong. Her silence this time around, though, was considerably heavier than her usual lack of noise, and Biowulf (adept as he was in understanding Breach's non-communication) could tell something was amiss.

Biowulf pushed for an answer. "Why aren't you with Van Kleiss?"

The cup she was sampling shook slightly as she tasted its contents. She swirled the drink about her mouth, savoring the unique flavor on her palate before swallowing. She mumbled something below her breath, too low even for Biowulf's keen ears to discern.

"What?" he asked, seeking clarification angrily. _What could possibly be more important than helping Master?_

She remained stolidly silent, eyes fixed upon the gentle whorls and convolutions of the coffee she was holding. She retreated into herself, ignoring the wolf entirely as she continued studying the intricate designs drawn upon the surface of her beverage.

Infuriated by her silence and perceived insolence, Biowulf slammed the table with clenched fists, marring the wooden surface permanently. One second away from reaching across the table and shaking the girl to her senses himself, he growled out, "_WELL?_"

She snapped at him finally, startled out of her reverie by his brief outburst of anger. Coffee spilt in hot rivulets from one of the mugs she was holding as her hands shook from violently suppressed emotion.

"It _hurts_, OK? That's all. It just…hurts," she said, lowering her voice to an undertone. The young EVO fixed her eyes on the tabletop and closed her mouth, lost among her inner thoughts of stars that were heard and light that was felt rather than seen. Her eyes lost their focus as vistas of distant galaxies and falling upwards played out before her face, fragmenting reality with every twist and turn.

Biowulf was, in a word, flabbergasted. He'd never seen more than mere semblances of emotion flicker across the mask that Breach wore in place of a face. She'd always walled herself in, refusing to let the world hurt her by cutting herself off from the world. Her façade was absolutely impervious, and even the slightest cracks in it meant that Breach was seriously disturbed. Such a complete breakdown…he couldn't imagine what kind of emotional duress had forced her to such a state. He listened, gobsmacked, as she continued talking to herself.

"I know it's important, and I know I'm a vital piece. It's just…does he have to make it _hurt_ so much? I know that none of it's real, so why does it still hurt? If it's not real, it can't hurt, so why does it hurt me? It's not real. It hurts. It can't be real, so he can't hurt me. So then why…" Her voice trailed off into a stream of repetitious mumbles as she continued staring sightlessly down.

Biowulf, meanwhile, was having something of an epiphany. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave as he realized something critically important; something that gave him untold amounts of relief.

_So…I'm not the only one having these traitorous thoughts against Master! Breach has her own problems too!_

The news was an incredible relief to the conflicted EVO. There were others like him! His treacherous musings weren't signs of an ungrateful subordinate, but were shared by such a dutiful follower of Van Kleiss as Breach herself (the thought that Breach might be feeling mutinous never even crossed his loyal mind, of course).

Once the initial euphoria had died down a bit, he wondered how Breach was handling such dangerous thoughts; then was faced with the real possibility that she was, in fact, not handling it very well. He pondered briefly on what methods _she _was considering using to cope: hopefully nothing as drastic as what the wolf himself had been considering. _Perhaps we could work together and come up with something…_

He leaned forward, the germ of an idea sprouting in his mind. No sooner had he opened his mouth to speak, however, than he became aware of a foreign presence nearby…_very _nearby.

All senses suddenly on high alert, Biowulf turned hastily to find the hidden presence that had startled him so much. His search was halted, however, by a surprising discovery.

Not two feet from his face (so close, indeed, that he could have reached out and touched it) was a statue that somehow looked remarkably familiar…

* * *

"One more cup of coffee, please."

"Same here."

"Four for me."

As the waitress scurried mouse-like back and forth with the orders, Nightshadow (or Jungle Cat, as some preferred to call him) was reacquainting himself with his old comrades. Turns out that turning into stone whenever you're surprised is an unusually good icebreaker.

"So what brings you here, Nightshadow?" Biowulf asked, intrigued.

"Oh, I'm an advanced reconnaissance unit sent by Providence to investigate an alleged disturbance in the area," he answered nonchalantly. Nightshadow had taken to doing that a lot in order to keep himself calm – acting unconcerned in order to control his impulses and instincts.

Of course, his impulses and instincts, vaunted though they may have been, had hardly been prepared for the bizarre sight he'd found within the café. Who'd have predicted that two members of the Pack would be inside, cheerily serving themselves drinks while discussing obviously treasonous ideologies? The surprise had been so great, indeed, that he'd lost his monumental self-control for a few seconds, turning back into stone momentarily as his nanites willfully rebelled against his consciousness and returned to their former state.

This was going to be good. He could already tell.

"Ah? A disturbance, you say? What type are we talking about, exactly?" asked Biowulf, who was wondering how such a fracas had slipped his attention.

"Oh, the usual thing: some EVO had walked into a grungy diner somewhere, leading to panic and a small-scale riot. Nothing too impressive. Shouldn't be too hard to mess up, and the Rapid Response Phone Alert operator told us specifically to take our time. Said something about 'pushy women', or something…anyway, there's certainly no rush."

Biowulf nodded agreement somewhat sympathetically. He could relate with having a boring job. "Yes, that does sound incredibly dull...Tell you what, why don't you ditch the job for a bit and join us for a drink? Just for old times sakes!"

"Well, I don't know…" the Jungle Cat balked, obviously drawn by the allure of some relaxation and yet duty-bound to complete his mission, tedious as it may be. Besides, this might give him a shot at Van Kleiss, shortening the time needed to take the obnoxious man's head…

In the end, the idea of some downtime (not to mention the side helping of vengeance, served cold) won out and Nightshadow was soon deep in conversation with the metal wolf. Their vastly differing ideologies clashed constantly, leaving them at perpetual loggerheads.

"You mean to say you're actually helping Providence? Van Kleiss' sworn enemies? How do you hope to serve the Master if you engage in such counterproductive actions?" Biowulf couldn't understand how the Jungle Cat was planning to further the EVO cause by assisting their foes. He waited for a satisfactory answer, which Nighshadow was happy to produce.

"No, no, you don't seem to understand: I absolutely _hate _Van Kleiss for what he did to me. I loathe every aspect of the man, and serving him is pretty much the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. Basically the only thing that keeps me going, even with this accursed handicap of stone, is my burning need to kill the man," Nightshadow explained patiently.

Deep inside him, in a private sanctum he himself had forgotten, Biowulf felt a surge of unholy glee when he heard this._ Yet another formerly loyal servant of Van Kleiss who has lost faith! It's a common problem – you're not the only one who doubts the Master! Now, all that's left to do is to figure out what the solution to this disease is…_

Biowulf's only outward response to this rather intimidating outpour of vitriol was to expound upon his earlier thoughts: rather like a teacher trying to explain a concept to a particularly recalcitrant (or boneheaded) student.

"You see, there is no doubt that Van Kleiss is a man worth following. That's an indelible fact that will forever remain unchanged," Biowulf (somewhat narrow-mindedly) claimed.

Nightshadow opened his mouth as though to argue, then shut it just as quickly. There was no point trying to shatter the wolf's fanatical beliefs. He listened as his friend continued:

"Nonetheless, both Breach and I have had some issues regarding our treatment at Master's hands. Since Master is infallible, the fault must therefore lie with us, and it's our appointed task to ensure that we solve the problem however we need to."

Breach shifted a little, but (like her comrade) didn't say anything that could have resulted in Biowulf's steadfast loyalty being shattered, not to mention his pleasant illusion that his compatriots were as dedicated to Van Kleiss as he was.

The Jungle Cat was amused by the overall conversation in general, and yet failed to see what exactly Biowulf was driving at. "OK, we should all worship Van Kleiss. We get that. Your point is…?"

"My point is this: since it is obvious that we all have our own issues with Master…"

"Yes? Get to the main bit already!"

"The solution to every one of our problems is a simple one – we simply form a support group to talk to one another in order to assist ourselves out of the quagmire of doubt in which we are ensnared! I have been thinking about some templates, and I feel something similar to the human program of Alcoholics Anonymous would be especially effective…"

There was a silence following this momentous revelation (actually, Silence was on break…but that's another story…)

It was broken by Nightshadow's deadpan voice: "A group. To help one another through our period of doubt in Van Kleiss."

A nod from the wolf, who seemed to remain blissfully unaware of the blank stupidity of his statement.

"And that's your solution?" Refusing to believe that anyone, no matter how single-minded, could actually have faith in such a cockamamie plan.

"Well, it only makes sense. It is up to us to solve our own problems, you know. After all, if we gave one another support, I'm certain we would all get through our dark period of doubting."

Again a pregnant pause, this time interrupted by Breach's opinion, saying, "It sounds like a good idea, although I think Biowulf may be broken in the head…"

Breach wanted, more than anything, to be able to trust Van Kleiss; and if Biowulf's plan had even the slightest chance of letting her do that, then she was in it all the way.

Biowulf turned to Nightshadow and, extending a metallic arm for dramatic effect, asked him, "And you? Where will you stand?"

_Behind Van Kleiss with a knife in my hand._ "I suppose it couldn't hurt to join…although it probably will be useless anyway."_ As long as it gets me close to Van Kleiss…with a knife in my hand…_

"Very well, then. A toast to success in our mission!" Biowulf cried, raising a coffee cup high.

The waitress dared to get her hopes up: they'd just toasted each other! Surely they were on their way out! The door would soon be free of these bizarre creatures, and her life could return to normal.

Unfortunately for her (and for the whole establishment, really), that was the moment when the aforementioned door ceased to exist.

A massive bulk standing outside leaned down to examine the newly created entrance, summoning an apology from deep within. Crouching down to examine the damage, it seemed vaguely sorry for the mess it had caused, but wasn't quite involved enough to find a solution.

It caught sight of the group seated around the table and looked up, attention piqued. A deep and gravelly bass voice rumbled through the air.

"Oh, there you all are. Mind if I join you?"

* * *

"I was sent here with a mission – a big important one that I mustn't fail at," the tri-legged reptile EVO declared proudly as he sat on the remains of one of the diner's largest tables.

"Another cup of the same, please – and refills for everyone," Nightshadow called to the harried waitress, before turning back to Skalamander. "So, what was this ' big task' that was given to you?"

The EVO puffed himself up before replying, "Master told me to appra…to appre…to - to catch Biowulf and Breach, who are in dere…in dereliksh…who are slacking off."

Biowulf raised a metaphorical eyebrow (with a face like his, there was only so much you could do expression-wise) at this statement.

Breach spoke up rather sharply: "Now that you've _apprehended _us, what are you going to do, seeing as we're still in _dereliction_ of our duties?"

The green behemoth thought about it for a moment, before shrugging. "I dunno…I guess…have some coffee."

This innocent sounding statement felt rather suspicious to Biowulf. "Hold on a minute. You said you were supposed to catch us, and now you're doing nothing?"

Skalamander shrugged again. "I was told to catch you, but Master did not tell me what to do after that. Until he tells me, I'll just keep an eye on you two."

Biowulf was rather nonplussed by this turn of events, but eventually decided to accept it and move on.

"Very well, then. We will now proceed to continue our interrupted discussion regarding the group sessions that we are goi–"

"Group sessions? What's that?" Skalamander broke in curiously, drawing the attention of Biowulf.

"Well, Skalamander, as a model follower of Master yourself, you could have no way of knowing what it's like to be upset with Master. Nonetheless, some of your weaker brethren (myself, tragically included) are not so lucky, and have temporarily lost faith in Ma–"

"I'm upset with Master right now," Skalamander frankly admitted, silencing Biowulf mid-word.

When he saw the incredulous stares directed at him by his companions, he frantically backpedaled, amending, "Just a little bit! And not for _too _long!"

Biowulf's insides were performing an odd manner of victory dance while his exterior remained stunned._ Even Skalamander, the second-most loyal member of them all, stumbled! You see, it's not an isolated incident!_

Nightshadow decided to investigate the matter further. "Why are you mad at Van Kleiss? Was it something he said?"

Skalamander shook his head in the negative. "Actually, I've been feeling this way for a while now. I think that Van Kleiss just doesn't appreciate my brains, you know?"

In the deafening pause in conversation that followed this bombshell revelation, the serving lady, worn out from all the lattes she'd had to make, staggered towards the group with several trays – too tired to even contemplate being scared by the new green EVO. Leaving the tray on the table with a clatter, she drunkenly staggered behind the counter, where she proceeded to collapse for a quiet nap.

Skalamander reached for a mug of coffee with his oversized fingers, talking all the while. "I mean, I may not be an Isaac Einstein or Albert Newton, but I've got brains! Ask anyone in Abysus an' they'll tell you – that Skalamander, he's got brains, he has."

Biowulf watched with a sort of morbid fascination as Skalamander dumped the whole cup – glass mug, steaming coffee and all – into his crooked mouth, endorsing himself all the while.

"I mean, _(*shatter*)_ I know I'm nowhere near as smart as Master _(*crunch*)_, but does he have to send me on only the easy missions_ (*crack*)_? It's always catching someone, or breaking something _(*snap*)_. I've got a brain too! I can use it _(*smash*)_, you know!"

Skalamander swallowed his rather jagged mouthful and decided, after some intense deliberation, that he didn't think much of this new 'coffee' stuff – it was murder on his sinuses, and the texture was simply atrocious.

He opened his eyes to find everyone staring at him – the waitress in tired horror, Breach in amazement, Biowulf in simple resignation, and Nightshadow with undisguised amusement.

"What?" he asked a tad defensively. "It's all true, you know; and it'd be nice if Master could remember that once in a while."

Biowulf merely shook his head. _I'd heard of being willing to eat broken glass, but this is just ridiculous!_

* * *

Having finally established a common ground for all the participants, Biowulf was free to move on to more pressing matters – namely, that of naming the group.

Nightshadow merely sighed and questioned the practical usefulness of a name, but he was outvoted by the other three members of the group.

"First off, we should definitely call ourselves a league – that's just a given fact…"

Breach nodded, agreeing with that.

Biowulf continued: "Furthermore, the aforementioned common points between us all must be present in our name. Any suggestions for things we all have in common?"

The motley group looked at one another speculatively for a few seconds.

_Things in common, eh?_ Breach spoke up first, pointing out:

"All of you apart from me have some sort of 'animal theme', you know?", referring to Skalamander's lizard-ness, Biowulf's wolfish features, and Nightshadow's vulpine figure.

Nightshadow chipped in, saying, "All of you apart from me still work for Van Kleiss."_ Personally, I just want to kill him._

Skalamander threw his two cents worth in for good measure, observing astutely, "All of you apart from me have your heads on straight. Literally speaking, of course."

Biowulf moaned. _This is even harder than running Abysus! And I thought root mucus was torture…_

He steeled his nerves and broke into the increasingly inane circle of conversation with an authoritative decree, declaring,

"Everybody will give _one_ characteristic that is shared by this _entire_ group, not a unique feature of their own. We shall then proceed to incorporate the various elements into our title. I'll start us off," he said, glaring at each person in turn.

"Now, firstly: We all worked for Van Kleiss at some point in the past. Nightshadow, it's your turn."

The cat-EVO raised one hand and said, "OK, first off: you essentially ripped off _my_ point there, O Fearless Leader. Did the creative juices of your magnificent intellect suddenly dry up. Second point: can I pass? I need time to think of a new one." _Yeah, one that doesn't let on how much I want to kill Van Kleiss…_

Biowulf sighed heavily, then turned to Breach. She stuck out her tongue as she thought, thinking quietly.

"Let me see…we're all unappreciated by Van Kleiss?"

Biowulf scribbled this down on a napkin, muttering: "Unappreciated…good…very good…" He looked up and pointed at Skalamander. "Your turn."

The green behemoth scratched his head idly while massaging his throat, which was feeling a bit off for some reason. "We all were Master's subba…hubba-hubba…suborn…sub…sub…" he scrunched his face as he searched his mind for the right word.

"Subordinates?" Nightshadow hazarded.

"That's it!" Skalamander crowed, before continuing. "We all were Master's subordinates in the past, and now we're all dis…disg…disgrab…disgroot…" he racked his brain once more for the right word.

"Disgruntled?" Biowulf supplied, rolling his eyes internally.

"That's the one! We're all disgruntled subordinates!"

Biowulf rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…disgruntled subordinates…not bad…not bad at all…a polysyllabic phrase…" He wrote it down on another napkin, before turning back to Nightshadow and waiting expectantly.

"Ah, let me see…I suppose that I'm not really part of the 'disgruntled subordinate' bracket because I didn't work very long for Van Kleiss." _Although I'm definitely disgruntled. _Very_ disgruntled._

"What's your point?" Biowulf asked, interrupting the EVO's mental train of thought.

Nightshadow continued, waving one hand deprecatingly, "No point, I was just saying that I would be classified as more of an…initiate. Yeah, that's right: I'm an initiate," he concluded, before realizing that he should probably make sure no one thought he was disgruntled or anything. _If they did that, they might get suspicious…_ "But I'm definitely _not_ disgruntled.

Biowulf waved his free hand dismissively, barely registering the addendum as he wrote furiously on the napkins. 'Yes, yes, yes. Initiate… unappreciated… disgruntled… league… hmmm…"

After another few moments of thought and syntactical structuring, Biowulf stood up and held an ink-covered napkin aloft. Gathering the attention of the others, he solemnly intoned the final name of the assembly.

"We are to be titled…the **League of Unappreciated Van Kleiss Initiates and Disgruntled Subordinates**!"

Everyone broke into mild applause at this announcement – including the waitress, who'd figured that the more she humored these lunatics, the sooner they'd leave her shop.

The dramatic effect of the whole thing, however, was massively overshadowed a few seconds later, when what was left off the door (which wasn't much) was smashed down by a giant metal boot. The crashing noises and splintering sounds were all that could be heard for a few seconds, until a familiar teenaged boy emerged from the rubble, spinning fists ready to go.

"All right, buckos! Providence is on the scene, and you punks are going dowwww–wait, what's going on here?"

The Silence (or lull, if you're picky) was only broken by the background crackle of falling rubble as the two parties observed each other.

* * *

"One more coffee, ple–"

"Scratch that! Get me a hot chocolate with cocoa shavings and powdered sugar, instead, OK?" the boy ordered, cutting across Biowulf's request. "Coffee's strictly for the old guys like Six in the morning, not for fabulous specimens of health such as yours truly…" the red-jacketed teen proclaimed as he leant back in his chair, eyes closed.

The waitress took a few unsteady steps towards the table, carrying a cup of hot chocolate on a tray along with a thermos jug containing more coffee for the rest. She was having trouble keeping up with events – things were moving pretty fast, and she had worked the graveyard shift last night. _Still, at least things are settling down a bit_, she thought as she served Rex his drink.

Rex seized the offered beverage eagerly with an absent-minded "_gracias, senora_", cupping his hands around the warm container. He perfunctorily nodded his thanks to her before returning to the exchange of meaningless greetings and inane comments regarding the weather.

The waitress slowly retreated to the safety of the counter. It was hard, and she was exhausted, but from what she'd gathered in the chaotic aftermath of the Hispanic teen's dramatic entrance, the relationships were as follows: The boy and the cat-man were both the backup that she'd asked for from Providence – a mistake in retrospect. _I should have just called the cops_.

Anyway, the original stranger-wolf guy was in cahoots with the remaining two weirdoes – the giant green amphibious…thing…and the creepy girl with four arms. The waitress just couldn't stop staring at the last one. _She's definitely the freakiest of them all…looks like someone from a scream flick._

_Why did I watch that horror movie last night? What on earth is _wrong _with me?_

As though she could detect someone's scrutiny upon her face, Breach turned her head slowly, swiveling her vertebrae around until she was looking directly at the terrified waitress, who promptly broke into a cold sweat, fidgeting and yet transfixed under that cold stare. Eyes twinkling maliciously…the EVO smiled and pointed benignly to one of the corners.

Hesitantly, unwilling to follow the smiling EVO's directing digit, the waitress slowly turned to the corner indicated and…turned white.

Ordinarily, there was nothing in that corner but a simple wall-mounted TV blaring out the latest sports-related news. Now, however, there was the upper body of a young girl with dark hair and two…no, wait, four…outstretched arms coming out of the TV screen. The waitress could only watch in mortified terror as the arms came closer, and closer, and **closer**, and _ohmygoshshe'scomingformysoul!_

That was the last coherent thought that ran through the terrified girl's mind before she threw herself onto the ground, curling into a ball and whimpering pitifully for the next five minutes straight.

Ignorant of the events happening right before him, Rex was gulping the steaming fluid eagerly down before tilting himself back. "Ahhhh…that hit the spot." _(*whump* as intimidated waitress collapses)_

Curious, Rex glanced to the front of the café, only to find that there was nothing but vacant space where the serving lady had been moments earlier._ Wasn't she standing there just a second ago? Where'd she go?_

Bemused, he turned around to see Breach pulling her head out of a portal with a quiet smile on her face (which looked bizarre, believe you me). Suspiciously, he put two and two together and asked,

"You didn't do anything to the waitress, did you?"

Breach tossed her head insolently, smirking on the inside. "Of course not! I didn't even touch her," she claimed, reveling on the inside. _Well, it's not like I _needed_ to touch her, but that's beside the point. Anyway, it's not my fault if this one broke faster than the others…_

He turned to Biowulf, an unspoken accusation in his eyes. The wolf defended himself: "I didn't do anything! The woman was acting odd before – jumping at shadows. She probably went home early."

Nightshadow spoke up, saying, "Indeed, I noticed that she was wringing her hands agitatedly. Hardly surprising she decided to leave."

Rex turned to Skalamander, the only one present who hadn't offered an excuse. He, however, was busy picking shards of ceramic from between his teeth and flicking them off one-by-one, and couldn't be bothered to answer.

He sighed and shook his head. Then, turning serious, he decided that it was up to him to get the ball rolling and work out exactly what was going on in here.

"OK, guys, I'm gonna start asking some questions, and you're going to answer them as best you can. Don't think you can hide anything from me: just 'cause I held off the face-pounding before, doesn't mean we can't have a do-over right now! So, you can start by answering this."

Pointing accusingly at the quartet huddled around their coffee mugs (or pots, whichever the case was), Rex asked, baffled, "Why are you guys here, doing nothing? Shouldn't you have mayhem to wreak? Lives to ruin? Cities to burn?"

He turned to his comrade-in-arms, who was unabashedly sampling his coffee while listening to the teen's tirade. "Also, Nightshadow, am I to consider this your formal declaration of defection, you rotten turncoat? Sipping with the Enemy, are we now?"

Nightshadow quickly rose to the defense of the accused, explaining aggrievedly that the Pack had no malicious intentions, that they were just grabbing a cup of coffee, that they had no idea why the café looked so decrepit, that he (Nightshadow) still wanted to kill Van Kleiss, that he (Rex) was an opinionated blowhard whose mouth could comfortably envelope a family-sized SUV, that wastes of spaces were wastes of space, and that–

Here Rex interrupted the (possibly former) Providence agent's tirade, begging him politely to get to the point. Nightshadow would have been offended, but an extremely expensive-looking car had just pulled up in front the restaurant and disgorged a plump man with the word "_manager_" essentially plastered over his forehead. With a frown upon his cheek jowls, he began making his way through the rubble of what used to be his restaurant's front door to look for his waitress.

Observing the rotund man's steady progress towards the front desk, Biowulf took over the flow of conversation at this point, talking fast and explaining, "Well, you see, we have no malicious intentions at this time. We simply wish to form a group that will help us all overcome our individual failings, and that will allow us to mature as true devotees of Van Kleiss. We have, after lengthy deliberation, decided to term this magnificent group the **League of Unappreciated Van Kleiss Initiates and Disgruntled Subordinates**!"

Everyone had mixed reactions to this statement. Skalamander took it fairly well, all things considered, merely nodding once at his partner's statement before dropping the coffee jar in his mouth to wash down the unpleasantly rough glass pieces. Breach…well, Breach was Breach, and heaven knows what she thought. Nightshadow had to actively control his desire to wince at the wolf's statement; it being his overpowering desire to find and destroy Van Kleiss as soon as possible – a far cry from Biowulf's purported aim of becoming "true devotees". Rex…well, Rex was struck dumb.

"The League of…wha?"

Moving quickly to take advantage of the opportunity before it vanished, Biowulf pressed his point forward, keeping a wary eye on the manager, who had just discovered his prone waitress and was attempting to communicate with her. Gesturing subtly to the rest of his crew, he said, "As you can see, there's nothing threatening going on here!" Backed by supporting nods from Breach and Skalamander, he continued sidling gently towards the door while spouting more drivel about timings and interwoven schedules.

Rex watched bemusedly as the group of four cautiously made their way to the door. His back, thus, was turned to the manager, who had pulled out a rather bulky calculator and was pushing buttons at a furious pace, sweat forming upon his greasy forehead as the man typed numbers in feverishly.

Assuming a completely non-threatening position, Biowulf concluded his placating speech. "And so, no Mischief is being Managed here! Nothing to worry about! Now, if you'll excuse us…" he finished, watching carefully as the obese manager scribbled some numbers onto a pad of paper and began waddling his way towards the party at the door, a determined look on his face.

"Bye!" And with that, the Pack, minus Nightshadow (who promptly took off to look for the aforementioned disturbance) dove headfirst through one of Breach's portals, leaving the scene as abruptly as they had arrived.

Rex stood a moment, completely befuddled by what had just happened. _What the…_

He was snapped out of his daze by a rather rough tap on the shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with a rather irate restaurant manager, with an irritated waitress recovering in the background. Brandishing a slip of paper in Rex's face like some kind of deadly weapon, the man spoke, listing out the items on his receipt.

"Consumables ordered: forty-seven cups of venti half-caff vanilla hazelnut _latte_, two hundred and thirty-one graham crackers and three cups of hot chocolate. $1,746. Miscellaneous damage: four ceramic mugs, two mahogany tables, seven wicker chairs and two coffee jugs. $15,780. Structural damage: one door and three plate glass windows. Approximately $140,000. Medical expenses: one traumatized employee. $75,210."

With a frankly malevolent glint in his eyes, the man handed Rex the bill and leaned back, folding his fingers briskly. "We accept cash or credit. No checks."

Finally realizing the situation he'd been left in, Rex looked about him frantically for any sort of assistance. Seeing that none was forthcoming, he looked back at the man with a sinking feeling in his chest. _Where the deuce am I supposed to magic $232,736_ _from? That's more than my annual allowance! Maybe I can bluff my way outta this…_

The next few seconds were quite sufficient to assure Rex in the most brutal fashion possible that yes, the manager knew who he was; and yes, he was still getting the bill. After all, everyone knew Providence was rolling in dough – surely they wouldn't miss such a paltry sum?

And that was that.

* * *

The sun shone drearily down on the weary city. A Hispanic teenager's eye twitched as he plotted his dark revenge against the forces of evil that had arrayed themselves against him. His olive-suited superior merely shook his head upon receiving the bill, eventually chalking it up to 'unavoidable expenditures'. A blue wolf chuckled wickedly in the shadows as he began scraping tree mucus samples. A statue frozen on a rooftop was concentrating furiously upon his hatred for someone as he tried to get moving once more. A six-limbed schoolgirl from hell smirked secretively as she returned to the experiments she was responsible for. A green monstrosity trundled on his merry way as he considered the vagaries of life, drinking bleach in a futile effort to cleanse his scarified throat.

In short, it was your average working day.

The day that the **League of Unappreciated Van Kleiss Initiates and Disgruntled Subordinates**, an organization that would change the very fate of the world itself, was formed. For now, however, they contented themselves with doing what they'd always done – at least, until the next club meeting…

* * *

xxXxx

* * *

**A/N**: I can't really explain this…like, at all. I have no idea when it could possibly have taken place in the canon timeline, although immediately before 'Lions and Lambs' seems about right. Heavily inspired by all the Akatsuki fanfiction out there on the _Naruto_ part of this site. The story's rather crack-ish (although I can kind of see it happening in canon), and I hope that you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! (Seriously, this was almost sinfully fun to write…)

This took almost two months to transfer to paper, but it's an idea that I've been nursing for an extremely long time. I personally find it riotously funny, but I understand if opinions vary. If you caught the Sipping with the Enemy reference, then you are a true P&amp;F fan.

Also, I realize that Biowulf and Nightshadow were technically enemies, but I'm assuming that now that Nightshadow has been 'demoted', Biowulf no longer feels threatened. Furthermore, I'm writing this, so I called a _deus ex machina_ on myself. That's just how it goes.

Now, the question for you guys is this: Do you want a part two? Actually, on second thoughts, that's not really important. Some feedback would be nice, I'm not going to lie, but if I was fishing for reviews, I would not be writing obsessively for a fandom that's essentially hibernating. There will be a part two, the question probably is supposed to be: How soon do you want a part two? Anyway, I've got the next few chapters planned out, but updates will probably take a while.

* * *

**EXTRAS:** **Rex's Revenge**; or,** What Happened After**; or,** Simply Delicious**

* * *

Rex grumbled to himself as he washed the six-hundred and forty-third plate that had passed through his hands, making sure that there was no food sediment left on the ceramic surface. While the cafeteria staff was slightly wary of his massive fists, White had ordered them to allow Rex to work as a dishwasher, in order to pay off part of his massive mission fees.

Scrubbing maliciously, he narrowed his eyes as he plotted his diabolical revenge. Oh, they'd pay for this humiliation; Biowulf and the rest of his cronies. Only Nightshadow had remained by his side, offering to shoulder a reasonable part of the debt – the rest had vanished like cowards through the portal. Unfortunately, the Jungle Cat's stealth skills were required by Providence at the moment to help with some missions, so Rex was stuck suffering by himself, toiling like a slave over the dirty pots and pans of the Providence kitchen.

_Oh, they'll pay. They'll _all_ pay, somehow. I'll teach them that you don't mess with Rex…_

As his thoughts continued meandering down this dark bent, pondering increasingly twisted and evermore twisted paths of retribution and agony, he began grumbling against Biowulf and the Pack in general.

_Those rats. Putting on airs, drinking _lattes_ like nobody's business, eating chocolate graham crackers like bleeding princes, and then bunking the accursed bill on my head. Who do they think they are? Forming some kind of grotty organization to slip away from that weaselly manager…_

His brow furrowed as he strove to remember exactly what Biowulf had ranted on about before disappearing. Something about forming a League…_the__** League of Unappreciated Van Kleiss Initiates and Disgruntled Subordinates**__! That was it! What a ridiculously long name…and why is it in bold?_

He began considering several ways to shorten it, playing around with like "The Pack 2.0" and "Dine-and-Dashers United", but eventually decided to simply take the acronym of the title. It would be easier, and it seemed be pronounceable…

Rex froze in place, soap suds dripping from his hands as he held a half-washed plate in mid-air. A grin of demonic proportions grew devilishly on his suddenly malevolent teeth as he began cackling like a trio of witches over a brew of adder's fork and blind-worm's sting. The other employees in the room looked uneasily at the boy before scooting away from him hurriedly, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever chaos was bubbling over in the boy's mind.

_The fools! The incredible fools! I knew that the Pack was stupid, but this…this takes the cake! This is Comedy Gold! This is the good stuff! This is simply delicious!_

Still rocking himself in his unholy mirth, he reached for his cell phone. Fingers fumbling with the device in his maniacal excitement, he punched in Nightshadow's contact number, waiting impatiently while it dialed. He started speaking the instant his comrade picked up.

"Nightshadow? This is Rex. I need you to go to Abysus for me. Give Biowulf a message for me. Tell him that the initials of his fancy organization are…"

On the other end, the stolid Nightshadow burst into laughter.

Half a day later, he confronted the Pack as a whole and revealed the information that Rex had passed on to him.

Skalamander didn't get it. Didn't everyone love kids? What was wrong with loving kids? Shrugging his shoulders, he kept walking, oblivious as usual, trundling along in his blissful ignorance.

Breach and Biowulf, however, took the news…differently.

Rex fancied that he could hear their screams of anguished humiliation over the swirling rush of the water streaming down in front of him. _That'd teach them to mess with a Salazar_.

Simply delicious.


End file.
